by Glen Solosky
just had heart failure, when a dark shadow came over me. I looked up and there was the flunkies, looking down at us and shaking they fists.
The box what the head gasket came in had got bent over the gun barrel, and when Arlin pulled the shotgun out of the car, the box came with it, landing at my feet.
He aimed the gun at the Flunkies. “Now fellers, I hate to pull a gun on anybody, ’specially strangers what I don’t even know. . .”
“Arlin, just shoot ’em!”
“Hold on, Walt, they aint from around here, and we don’t want to give the impression folks in these parts aint fr—” He never got to finish his stupid speech about how you should be polite to aliens what want to stomp you into the ground and eat you for dinner becuz them two knuckleheads, Ledo and Haas, what where still rolling around on the ground, plowed right into him. Arlin landed on top of them and the gun landed about ten feet away, where it hit the ground and went off.
I heard a squawk.
The sound of gunfire snapped Haas and Ledo out of their fight. They looked up and realized they was in a heap o’ trouble. I don’t think the sheriff even took notice two seconds later when a dead bird fell on his head.
He said, “Walt, please tell me that wasn’t your last shell.”
“Yep, and it just got wasted on a pigeon.”
I aint quite sure why I happened to look down just then. I shoulda been watching them Flunkies. But anyhow, I saw the box near my feet. The flaps was torn up and the box was open so I could see what was inside it. I reached down and picked it up.
“Ledo, I thought you put this gasket in my engine.”
“Thet aint no gasket, Wote! Jeez, yo dumb! Thet’s jus’ what they packs it in.”
“No,” said Haas, “I’m pretty sure that’s a gasket.”
“Yo both crazy! Gasket’s white and squeaky!”
“The foam packing is white and squeaky,” said Haas. He pointed to the thing in my hand. “That’s a gasket!”
Arlin looked from Haas to the gasket. “I’m sure I don’t know as much about cars as you fellers, but it seems to me that if you put packing foam in an engine, it won’t take long before. . .”
The Flunky-mobile started making an awful noise. It was rattling and shaking. Parts started falling off. Flunkies started falling off too. They jumped ship just in time before the engine blew in a big fireball and a black cloud of smoke.
Its legs began to buckle and it started tilting toward us.
Haas jumped to his feet. “Boys, I think it’s time we get outa here!”
We ran for our lives, right along with them Flunkies. The buggy squealed and moaned as it came falling straight for us. I didn’t think we were gonna make it out in time, ’specially them Flunkies. They is kinda slow with them short little legs.
It seemed to take forever to get out of the thing’s shadow, but we finally made it just as it came crashing down behind us. I don’t think it was put together too good, becuz when it hit the ground it busted up into a million pieces. Parts was flying everwhere. A toaster missed my head by inches, and I flopped to the ground just as a flaming truck retread rolled by.
I stayed there for a while. When I got up and looked around, there was junk scattered all over my yard, a lot of it from the Flunky-mobile.
Ledo was jumping up and down. “Ooo-wee, Wote! You see them Flunkies run into the woods? Haw! I aint never seen nothin’ run so fast!”
Sheriff Haas nodded his head in the direction of the woods. “They headed back toward the quarry.”
“Let’s grab some pipes and bash they haids in!”
“That won’t work,” said Haas, “Their heads are like rubber. The only thing that’ll kill them is guns, which we don’t have.”
We heard the sound of an engine. I was about to run and hide when I realized it was just a car coming up the road. It pulled up next to us and Carl Fleaslap stepped out. He aint much taller than the flunkies, and just as bald.
“What in the name o’ junk happened here?” he said in a squeaky voice, kinda like a cartoon chipmunk. “I seen a black cloud come from here and figgered I auta check on you boys.” Then he spotted Haas. “Sheriff! Where you been? I heard tell you was dead!”
“No, Carl, I aint dead.”
“You sure?” Carl looked around my yard. “Say, this here looks like my junk!” He picked up a piece of scrap. “This is my junk! Walt, I think you got some explaining to do!”
The sheriff said, “We can explain later. Right now we need to take your car into town.”
“Whoa, hold on, Sheriff. I aint going nowhere until somebody tells me why my junk is laying all over Walt’s yard!”
Just then we saw the Flunky space ship rising up from behind the hills in the distance. It went up, a little to the west, growing smaller and smaller.
The sheriff sighed. “Guess we won’t be needing that ride into town after all.”
Carl didn’t seem to notice the space ship. “Lookit here,” he said, poking a smoking car engine with his foot, “This engine come from a ’64 Dodge Dart. Somebody stole it from me just last Thursday.”
Ledo said, “Haw! You don’t know nothin’, Carl. Thet come from Walt’s Pinto!”
“No. I’d know that engine anywhere. It is defnitly from my Dodge Dart.”
The sheriff looked at the hunk of metal, frowning. “He’s right. This isn’t your engine, Walt.”
“What?” I said, staring at it. “Well, if they didn’t use the Pinto engine for this thing, what did they use it for?”
Arlin said, “Sheriff, I seem to recollect you saying something about the Flunkies having engine problems?”
We looked at the speck rising into the sky. There was a flash of light, then it dropped toward the horizon, leaving a trail of black smoke.
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About the author:
Glen Solosky lives in eastern Pennsylvania with his wife and two sons.
Walt vs the Space Flunkies was originally written for a comic book format. It never saw publication. Years later I revisited the script and decided to turn it into a short story. Maybe one day I’ll try doing the comic version again, if time permits.
